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A couple of days ago it looked like Ilya Kolvalchuk was going to be a New Jersey Devil for more or less the rest of his pro career, as he signed a $102 million dollar, 17-year deal that was pretty much unprecedented in professional sports. (Unless you count the Islanders’ DePietro deal, which I don’t — that would be like saying the Raiders personnel decisions are in any way comparable to the rest of the NFL.) Yesterday, however, the NHL nixed the deal (and it appears the Devils may have known this was coming even before the press conference).

Okay, look. I’ve devoted a lot of time and energy into hating the ever-loving hell out of Brett Favre for the monumental screw-job he handed Green Bay fans by first doing the ‘I MAY RETIRE OR I MAY NOT WOULDN’T YOU LIKE TO KNOW’ dance and then the ‘LOLOLOLOL I AM SIGNING WITH YOUR RIVAL’ swan song. I really, really thought there couldn’t possibly be a bigger dick in organized sports than Brett Favre. I mean, the man singlehandedly held up football in Green Bay for a solid three years, and I’m pretty sure Aaron Rodgers still has Favre voodoo dolls in every room of his house.

That said? I’ve never seen an athlete so tone-deaf as to think that a nationally televised hour-long special to announce his free-agency decision smacked of anything beyond rampant egotism. That was horrifying in and of itself.

But a nationally televised hour-long special to break up with his hometown team in the most public manner possible? That’s an unprecedented level of douchebag.

Congratulations, LeBron James. You’re 2010’s entry into the Dick Move Hall of Fame. Good thing I don’t care about basketball.

The charges* filed against Steelers QB Ben Roethlisberger this weekend are serious, and in no way do the Ladies… condone such acts. Sexual violence is disgusting and pathetic, and should not be committed by anyone at any time. We doubt many of you would disagree.

When the idea of a Ladies… Book Club was mentioned, I realized that I better beef up on my sports-centric reading material. A few days later, I was at my local wholesale club and stumbled upon a gem: A-Rod: The Many Lives of Alex Rodriguez by Selena Roberts. It was half-price and full of juicy, A-Rod gossip. It was fate.

We were pretty much inundated with excerpts from this much-discussed tell-all, so I felt familiar with it immediately. We all thought we knew what the book was about: steroids. Well, my friends, we weren’t entirely right.

This has been a rough week for me as a sports fan. I have found myself in the odd position of having to defend my team, not only to others but to myself. I bitched all pre-season about how much I hated all the rankings. Too many expectations only means you crash harder when you inevitably slip from that lofty perch. I knew my team wouldn’t go undefeated; we didn’t last year and we are essentially the same team. But there is still nothing harder than watching the boys you love lose, and then LOSE AGAIN!!! (And then to watch that first team who beat you go on and lose to HARVARD. Harvard. I didn’t even know the Ivy’s had basketball!) There is also nothing worse than to kinda hate some of the members of your team. What was that Wayne Ellington? You thought you could go pro? How ’bout you jack up not one, not two, but THREE airballs?? That’s what they do in the pros, right? Or perhaps Ty Lawson. So called best point guard in all the land. Maybe you should have more points that turnovers in the first half. Sometimes that helps. Or maybe you should have atleast some ability to guard your man. Is keeping him from scoring 30+ points unreasonable? Is that too much to ask? Thank the sweet baby Jesus for Danny Green. And Tyler Hansbrough’s first half effort. Ugh. I haven’t even watched Sportscenter this week because I can’t bear to hear all the shit they are saying. It makes me kind of sick.

One of the things that we all love about this site, both as writers and readers, is that it’s a place where we can all feel normal as sports fans. We can talk about batting averages and winning percentages and goals and who will beat who, and no one will look at us funny. We need this place because quite often, female sports fans are seen as freaks, pretenders or unfeminine, when none of the above is true.

Mommy, do you think that the Bulls should pick Derrick Rose or Michael Beasley?